


The Last of the Starks

by Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya



Series: Season 8 [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya/pseuds/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya
Summary: I hope you like this one. I put a lot into it..Obviously there is a lot of things in here that every Gendrya fanfic actually needs, but I hope my twist is enjoyed.I'm mostly sticking with episode names as my titles, because I am utterly useless at thinking of names!





	The Last of the Starks

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this one. I put a lot into it..  
> Obviously there is a lot of things in here that every Gendrya fanfic actually needs, but I hope my twist is enjoyed.
> 
> I'm mostly sticking with episode names as my titles, because I am utterly useless at thinking of names!

     Everything whirred around her, hands reached for her, lifting her small body into the air, voices cheered all around. Arya felt numb. She felt as though she had left her body once more, only this time she wasn’t Nymeria, she was truely No One. Her head thrummed, she could feel her wounds beginning to clot, the blood no longer dripping from her, but her pains had passed. She knew the pain should still be present, she felt as though she’d broken a few ribs earlier, but now there was nothing except numbness, she couldn’t even feel the bitter cold anymore.

  
Suddenly everything went black. The noise was still there.. she could still feel hands.

  
“Arya! Arya!” She could hear people yelling her name. She felt someone lower her to a bench, the noises weren’t so loud now.

  
“She’s breathing.” She heard Sansa sigh quietly.

  
“She is Azor Ahai.” She heard Bran announce, his voice drained of any emotion. “She saved us all. Arya slew the Night King.”

  
Arya’s ears filled with the gasps of everyone around her. She stirred slightly, almost as a reflex to the attention she was receiving.

  
Everyone was chattering around her, she couldn’t make out what was going on, and couldn’t rouse herself from her state. She could feel someones hand resting on her shoulder, she assumed it was Sansa’s. Suddenly she could hear footsteps approaching, almost running, but slightly limping. Arya didn’t know how she could hear footsteps with everyone chattering around her, but she heard them come to a stop. Someone dropped to their knees beside Arya.

  
“Gendry..?” She murmured, beginning to come to her senses.

  
“It’s me milady.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it ever so gently. How could his big, rough, blacksmith hands do anything gently she thought to herself.

  
Slowly she opened her eyes. They were in the Great Hall, it looked like it was being used as an infirmary. There were candles lit everywhere, it burned Arya’s eyes. She shut them back up.

  
“Arya,” Sansa said, “Arya stay with us!”

  
“I’m here.” She said quietly.

  
“Someone should take her to her chambers! I will send a Maester.” Sansa commanded.

  
“I’ll take her.” Gendry said scooping Arya up gently into his arms.

  
“I will be along shortly.” Sansa said. Arya thought she sounded slightly mad, but also amused. Arya was too numb to analyse this though. She was beginning to feel things now, the numbness was still in her core and in her mind, but she could feel something in her chest, it was warm and beginning to seep through her.

  
She sighed and snuggled into Gendy’s muscled chest. She felt almost safe in that brief moment.

     “How’dai ger yer?” Arya mumbled almost incoherently. She was led in her bed, someone had removed her boots and cloak, but she still wore her blood covered clothes.  
“I brought you.” Gendry said standing over her, a worried scowl on his face.

  
Arya’s mind was clearing now. She was starting to piece together everything that had happened.

  
“Sansa will yerl at yoou when shee ges ere,” Arya started to say, Gendry brought her a cup of water, which seemed to make talking easier. “My filthy clothes are gettin the furs dirty!”  
“I think she may overlook that,” Gendry knelt beside her bed.

  
She turned her head so that she was facing him. She reached out a hand and gently laid it on the side of his face.

  
“I think your sister may have had more questions if I had stripped you naked.”

  
“Not like you haven’t-“ Arya began when her door opened.

  
Gendry blushed and stood up.

  
“My Lady.” He bowed to Sansa.

  
Arya chuckled to herself noting how he called Sansa My Lady, whereas it had always been Milady for Arya. Arya was not a Lady, not on any level. Gendry knew Arya hated being called Milady, but all the same, it still made her insides burn with desire.

  
“A Maester is on his way, how are you feeling?” Sansa demanded.

  
“I’m fine, where’s Jon?” Arya replied.

  
“He’s fine. He is with Daenerys, Ser Jorah died. She’s very upset.”

  
“Who else?”

  
“There have been many deaths, but it’s the living we need to worry about right now. The dead will wait until tomorrow.”

  
Arya nodded.

  
“At least all the people I love are fine.” She said, her eyes involuntarily flickering to Gendry. He blushed like a maid in response.

  
“Gendry,” Sansa turned to address him, “you may go if you so wish. I thank you for bringing my sister to her chambers.”

  
Gendry briefly gawked at the two of them. It was clear he didn’t want to leave, yet there was no way he would say no to Sansa.

  
“No!” Arya protested. “Let him stay.”

  
Sansa raised an eyebrow in response.

  
“But Arya, the Maester will probably have to strip you to see your injuries.”

  
Arya searched for something to say. Anything.

  
Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya and sat on the edge of her bed. Gendry stood not far away from her, he was looking down at his feet almost ashamed.

  
“I should go.” Gendry murmured.

  
“No.” Arya pleaded, she almost sounded like a little girl.

  
Sansa turned to look at Gendry, then back to her sister.

  
“How do you two know each other?” She asked looking at Gendry, but the question was really for Arya.

  
Gendry swallowed, Arya could see his throat move up and down, his eyes were downcast still. For a moment she wanted to leap from the bed and shower him with kisses until he held his head up high. But she didn’t, she just looked at him, she could feel her face softening, then he glanced up at her.

  
“We traveled together.” Arya began, “Years ago. When Father was executed, a man of the Nights Watch took me from the city, he was to bring me home. He cut my hair and told me I was an orphan boy called Arry.” Arya paused glancing at Sansa and at Gendry.

  
“I think it was your Father My Lady,” Gendry said gently, “who arranged for the same Brother to take me from the city to hide me.”

  
Sansa nodded for them to continue the story.

  
Arya told most of the tale of how they had traveled from Kings Landing, passing the refugees of war who were heading towards the city. She told her about the Gods Eye, leaving out the gory details, even omitting the tale of Jaqen H’ghar. When the story comes to Harrenhall Gendry takes over from Arya. Arya noticed the shudder her sister gave when Gendry mentioned Lord Bolton. Arya continued the tale through their time with the Brotherhood Without Banners.

  
“Then Lord Beric Dondarrion knighted him,” she huffed, almost spat.

  
“You remember? Most people don’t even know!” he grinned.

  
“Of course I remember. After he knighted you, you decided to stay with the Brotherhood, whilst they planned to ransom me back to my family. You left me.”

  
“I should have stayed with you.” He whispered kneeling down to her bedside.

  
She looked into his eyes, she had almost forgot that Sansa was even sat beside her.

  
“We wouldn’t be here now,” she reached for his hand, “We wouldn’t be the same people we are now if it didn’t happen.”

  
Arya noticed Sansa’s eyes flicker down to their intertwined hands.

  
Gendry and Arya both blushed as Sansa looked at them both in turn, she placed her hands over their intertwined hands.

  
“Gendry, thank you for protecting my sister.” Sansa said.

  
“She’s never really needed protecting.” Gendry laughed.

  
“I’m here!” Arya protested.

     “Milady,” someone called out as they knocked on the door.

  
“Enter, please.” Sansa responded.

  
Sansa and Gendry both rose to their feet as Samwell Tarley shuffled in.

  
“The Maester sent me,” he ducked his head to Sansa. “To see to your sister.”

  
“I’m fine!” Arya protested.

  
“You lost consciousness, Milady-“ Samwell began.

  
“I’m not a Lady.” Arya said through gritted teeth.

  
Samwell looked uncomfortable, his mouth began to open and close, without any sound coming out.

  
“Just ignore her.” Gendry told the large man.

  
“I’ll see to your cuts first, could someone get me a bowl of water.”

  
He set a large bag down beside Arya’s bag as Sansa called out for a servant to fetch some clean water.

  
“Where do you have pain?” Samwell asked as they waited.

  
“My ribs and my head, mostly.”

  
“Okay, let me take a look at your ribs.”

  
Arya was propped up on her bed, but she began to push herself up so she was completely upright.

  
“Um, we’ll.. we’ll-“ Samwell stammered. “We’ll have to remove your shirt.”

  
He turned to Gendry who crossed his arms across his chest.

  
“I can’t lift my arms to remove my shirt!” Arya protested.

  
“Oh.. ugh..” Samwell shifted his feet.

  
Gendry came closer to the bed he looked at Arya sat where he’d placed her on the bed. Arya cocked an eyebrow at him, he rolled his eyes in response. He reached down towards her and gently began to remove her shirt.

  
Sansa gasped as she made her way back into the room, flanked by two serving girls. Samwell looked at her and also gasped. Gendry made no noise but gave Arya a reassuring look. Samwell began to examine her.

  
“Do I want to ask about the scars?” Sansa asked Arya.

  
Gendry hadn’t been shocked by the scars, he’d seen them before, but even he hadn’t learned their story yet. The scars were obviously old, but they were large and bright red, they criss-crossed their way right across Arya’s stomach from her hips to just below her breasts.

  
Samwell bound her broken ribs and cleaned up the rest of her wounds. She needed stitches on her forehead, but the other cuts were shallow enough to heal by themselves.

  
“I think you should rest,” Samwell said. “Your head has suffered a few blows, you may not be quite yourself for a few days, but nothing a little rest won’t solve.”

  
Gendry and Sansa both laughed.

  
“What?” Arya protested.

  
“You, rest!” Sansa said.

  
“Unlikely.” Gendry added.

  
Arya rolled her eyes in response.

  
“Gendry was limping!” Arya declared.

  
“Let me take a look.” Samwell motioned for Gendry to sit so he could examine his leg.

     That night Sansa returned with a horde of serving women all carrying food, followed by Jon pushing Bran’s chair.

  
“What’s this?” Arya asked still sat in bed.

  
“Well Sam told us you had to rest, and seeing as what’s just happened, we thought it would be good to all have supper together, so Sansa decided we should join you.” Jon said.

  
Arya sat and ate with her siblings that night, for a few moments she was able to smile and be glad that she was back with her family.

  
“Everyone’s been talking about you all day!” Sansa said excitedly.

  
She was glad that she didn’t have to face the whole of the castle for supper that night. She really didn’t want to have to face everyone staring at her. She could bare being here with her family, but even their attention made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

  
Once they had finished eating the conversation turned to what would be happening now that the White Walkers had been defeated.

  
“We’re burning the dead in the morning.” Jon declared.

  
“Samwell said you could attend. But you must rest afterwards.” Sansa added.

  
“You’re all going to stifle me!” Arya declared, but she smiled softly to her sister and brothers.

     Gendry came to collect Arya first thing in the morning.

  
“Came to escort you Milady.” He said smiling at her.

  
“I’d kick you in the shin for that, but I forgot which leg you hurt.” She snarled back.

  
His grin grew at her response.

  
The two of them made their way outside, the sky was overcast, but Arya had been stuck inside for over a day so the light was still too bright. She blinked a few times pausing before they continued to where everyone else was gathered. Gendry made his way to stand beside Ser Davos, whilst Arya stood with her family.

  
In front of the gathered survivors of the Long Night lay 8 large funeral pyres. Each pyre was made up of multiple people, it was the only way they would be able to see to all their dead. Jon stepped forward and made a rousing speech to all the survivors.

  
“Everyone in the world owes them a debt that cannot be paid!” He declared with regards to the fallen.

  
Jon sounded like the King he should be as he stood talking of duty and honour. Arya glanced around her, the number of dead was monstrous, yet the living did still outnumber the dead, just. Ghost stood along side Jon, his white fur was red in patches from dried blood, and part of his ear had been gnawed away. Arya had never been afraid of the dead or death before, but at this moment she found it difficult to look upon the piles of dead bodies before her.

  
Jon finished up his speech and 8 men came forward carrying lit torches. They proceeded to pass the torches to Jon, Sansa, Daenerys, Greyworm, Tormund, Samwell, Ser Davos and herself. Each had been assigned their own pyre to light. Jon nodded to them all and they began to make their way forward.

  
Arya reached the pyre she had been assigned. She peered down and the person she could see most clearly was Lord Beric Dondarrion. His skin was pale and chalky, his face was covered in cuts. He was still in his armour, and still wore his ever present eye-patch. He looked at peace. Arya felt all sorts of emotions looking down at Beric. She’d gone from respecting the man, to wanting to kill him and back around to being thankful to him for sacrificing his life for hers. They paused before the pyres before Jon gave another nod. They all lit their individual pyres.

  
“Valar morghullis.” Arya muttered as she touched her torch down to the pyre. She turned around and joined the crowd of the living. Arya shifted as she looked around at the pyres. She bit down on her lip and stared into the distance as she stood there. Saying goodbye to all the dead, most of the men and woman she didn’t know, but she could see a few she did know. She spotted little Lady Lyanna Mormont, and her cousin Ser Jorah Mormont. She swallowed blinking back the tears, House Mormont was no more, and the Severn Kingdoms would be worse for it. And Arya suspected House Mormont was not the only House to have been tipped out that night.

  
The crowd stood watching for a few moments, but the stench of burning flesh soon became too much and everyone started to move off. But Arya stayed her ground, she wasn’t ready to leave, not yet. The sky’s were thick with smoke by time Arya was ready to leave. She turned around, there were only a handful of people left out in the snow and ash, Gendry stood waiting for her. She gave him a weak smile and they fell in step besides one another.

     That night the castle came alive. The dead had been seen to, and now it was time for the living to celebrate. Arya could not bring herself to face the crowds. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her this morning when they were burning the bodies, but that was something she had to do. Attending a feast however, that was something that did not actually require her presence. Arya snuck into the kitchens and was able to swindle some bread and meat, she quickly scoffed them down before going to search for somewhere quiet. She meandered her way through the halls of Winterfell, she took her time, trailing a finger along the wall as she went. The last time she was walking through these halls she was being chased by Whites. She felt a sense of unease as she went.

  
She found her way back to that storeroom near the forge. She had picked up a bow and a quiver of arrows on her way into the storeroom. It was much quieter in here, she could still hear distant noises. Every now and then a huge cheer would go up, or someone would begin singing. But Arya tuned it all out. She found solace in the cool room, she found herself feeling calmer than she had felt all day. She released arrow after arrow into a makeshift target she had put up. She hadn’t wanted to be around the crowds, but she had come here half hoping Gendry would have turned up. But, she’d rather be alone here than with him and the hundreds of others drinking and eating themselves into a stupor!  
Arya released an arrow, and as it found it’s mark she heard a loud gasp.

  
“Don’t shoot!” Gendry teased grinning as he walked into the storeroom putting his hands up before him.

  
She looked him up and down before smiling in response. He looked very happy as he made his way over to her. She was loading up another arrow when he reached her.

  
“It’s nighttime, it’s freezing and everyone is celebrating.” he declared. “You should be celebrating with them!”

  
“I don’t want to be with them.” Arya stated plainly. “And I am celebrating.” She said as she let another arrow fly.

  
“Yeah, I am too!”

  
She reached for another arrow as he took a sharp intake of air.

  
“I’m not Gendry Waters anymore.” he began.

  
She turned around to face him. He looked very Northern in his leather tunic and stood before her with his hands behind his back. He almost looked nervous, but excited.

  
“I am Gendry Baratheon. Lord of Storm’s End.” he declared.

  
Arya looked at him, dumbfound for a moment.

  
“By order of the Queen.” he added.

  
Arya turned her whole body towards him, beginning to smile, she said “Congratulations.”

  
Before she could say or do anything else, he moved forward, bending to kiss her. His hands rested on her arms. Her whole body came alive as he kissed her softly, she dropped her bow to the floor. He began to pull away from the kiss, but Arya pushed herself forward, deeper into it.

  
Eventually they parted.

  
“I don’t know how to be Lord of anything!” Gendry said quickly. “I hardly know how to use a fork!”

  
The corners of Arya’s mouth pulled up into a smile as she looked into his face. His blue eyes sparkled with passion and excitement.

  
“All I know is that you’re beautiful, and I love you, and none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me!” he declared with a massive smile on his face.

  
Arya looked at his face, her whole body was burning, she wanted to push him back down onto the sacks of grains as she had just last week. His face was close to hers, crinkles were forming around his eyes, and all she could do was smile in response. No one had ever called Arya beautiful before. No one outside of her family had said they’d loved her before. And she knew it then, instantly she knew that she loved him too - maybe she’d known for some time.

  
“So be with me?” Gendry pleaded with the biggest smile Arya had ever seen.

  
She searched his face once more, just to make sure he meant it. Of course he meant it. She couldn’t find any words, she could hardly breathe. She just stood there staring at him, thinking of something to say. Why did words choose to fail her now!

  
She was about to respond when he dropped down to one knee. She looked down on him in wonder.

  
“Be my wife. Be the Lady of Storm’s End.” He smiled up at her.

  
Slowly she dipped down to his level, keeping her eyes open the whole way, she didn’t want to take her eyes from his face for even a second. She kissed him, finally closing her eyes. She kissed him deeply, deeper than she had imagined possible. He gently grasped her arms, she could feel him smiling into the kiss and he pulled them both gently to their feet. He kissed her back, but then he eventually pulled away, she left her eyes closed for a few moments longer. She inhaled to clear her head.

  
Once more she was looking up at him, her eyes glimmering with love and desire.

  
“You’ll be a wonderful Lord,” Arya declared, Gendry was grinning back at her. “and any Lady would be lucky to have you.”

  
The grin dropped from Gendry’s face.

  
“But I’m not a Lady. I never have been. That’s not me.” Arya said.

  
Gendry took a step backwards. He looked hurt.

  
Arya stepped forwards, towards him.

  
“I love you, I do..” Arya began before trailing off.

  
“And I love you!” he protested.

  
“I can’t be your Lady though. I.. I still have names on my list, I can’t-““Arya, I don’t care, all I care about is you! I want to be with you, if I’m not with you, none of it matters. I only accepted the Lordship because I thought it would make me worthy of you!”

  
“You are worthy.” Arya breathed, moving to kiss him. “You were always worthy.”

  
“I’ll tell Daenerys I don’t want to be Lord of Storm’s End! But I think I’d still like to be Gendry Baratheon. I always wanted a name.”

  
Arya threw herself into his arms, she wrapped her small arms right around his neck and her legs around his waist. He responded by enveloping her with his big burly arms.

     They made their way through Winterfell’s halls heading to her chamber, they were holding hands, Arya didn’t want to let go of his hand ever again. She bristled knowing that she would have to let him go at some point. She couldn’t exactly kill Queen Cersei whilst holding Gendry’s hand!

  
Arya pushed Gendry down onto her bed and stood over him grinning.

  
“Hey, you never actually answered my question.” Gendry said sitting up.

  
“What?” Arya asked.

  
“You didn’t want to marry Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm’s End, but how about marrying Ser Gendry Baratheon?”

  
Arya gawked at him.

  
“I-“ Arya began.

  
“I will follow you, wherever you go, I will go. Whatever you want to do, I will do it with you. I will do anything so long as I get to be at your side.” Gendry said passionately.

  
“I love you.” Arya nodded at him and began kissing him once more, allowing their bodies to fall to the bed.

  
“Is that a yes?” Gendry asked around her lips.

  
“Mm.. I think you’re meant to ask my brother first.” She giggled at him.

  
“Oh, I don’t really think Jon’s my type.” Gendry whispered back.

  
Suddenly someone cleared their throat. How had someone snuck up on them! No one had snuck up on Arya in years. Arya and Gendry both suddenly sprang apart and to their feet.

  
“My Lord.” Gendry said ducking his head to Jon.

  
“My Lord,” Jon responded, “My sister..”

  
Arya looked over his shoulder to Sansa walking in, she looked at her sister in panic.

  
“Arya, what is Gendry to ask me?” Jon questioned strolling into the room, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  
Sansa looked at the two of them, and smiled slightly, Arya positioned herself subconsciously in front of Gendry.

  
“Jon,” she said reaching out to lay an arm on his arm.

  
Gendry gulped, and nodded to himself. He stepped forwards, around Arya, towards Jon.

  
“My Lord, I wish,” he began to falter, “I wish to.. to ask your permission to marry your sister.”

  
“My sister?” Jon gasped.

  
Sansa tried to hide her smile, as did Arya.

  
Jon looked between the three of them.

  
“What? How?” He rubbed his hands across his face, “Ygritte was right, I do know nothing.”

  
“I’ll fill you in.” Sansa told Jon.

  
“You knew?” He asked her, wide eyed.

  
“Not truely. I knew there was something there though.”

  
“Do you want to marry him Arya? You’re suspiciously quiet. Do you want to be the Lady of Storm’s End?” Jon asked going over to Arya and lifting her chin up with his finger.

  
“Those are two different questions.” Is all she replied.

  
“About that, I need to tell Her Majesty that I do not wish to be Lord of Storm’s End.” Gendry added.

  
“Ah.” Sansa laughed. “You mean to say, Arya does not wish to be a Lady, so you’re forsaking your lands and titles for her?”

  
Arya looked to Gendry, her lips parted slightly, waiting for his response.

  
Gendry looked between Sansa and Jon.

  
“I love your sister with all my heart, I would do anything for her. But you’re right, she does not want be a Lady. And I understand that.” he said.

  
“But I do want to marry him.” Arya said, surprising all four of them.

  
“Okay,” Jon began, “I give you permission to marry my sister.”

  
Gendry bent down swiftly and lifted Arya into his arms, he kissed her deeply, and despite it being the first time anyone else had seen them kiss she didn’t mind, she smiled and kissed him back.

  
Jon cleared his throat.

  
“Gendry? Perhaps you would like to speak to Daenerys now?” he asked.

  
Arya bit down on her lip, longing to be left alone with Gendry, but knew that would not happen now.

  
“Yes My Lord.” Gendry began to follow Jon out of Arya’s chambers, before pausing and turning around. “My Lady.” He dipped his head to Sansa. “Milady.” He said to Arya.

  
Arya picked up a cushion from nearby and threw it at him and he flashed a massive grin back.

     “Okay, we need to talk.” Sansa said powerfully as soon as the door closed behind Gendry and Jon.

  
“You’re getting married?” Sansa questioned.

  
“I guess.” Arya replied. She didn’t want to talk about it.

  
“You love him?”

“Yes.” She blushed.

  
“You were about to sleep with him, if Jon and I hadn’t walked in?”

  
“Why are you interrogating me?” Arya narrowed her eyes at her sister.

  
“I’m trying to protect you Arya. I’ve been married off twice for political gains and I’ve had men force themselves on me. I want everything to be better for you Arya.”

  
Arya sat on the edge of the bed and Sansa sat next to her. Arya bit her lip looking down at her feet, “We slept together.” She admitted. “Before the Long Night.”

  
“Oh, Arya.” Sansa sighed, she reached out to smooth her sisters hair down. “I wish Mother were here.”

  
Arya shrugged in responce.

  
“What difference does it make?” she asked her sister.

  
“What if he put a bastard in you?” Sansa asked.

  
“So what? The two men I love most in this world are bastards!” Arya fumed.

  
“You’re missing the point! I guess I’ll have to start arranging a wedding tomorrow. At least we’ll have something to look forward to! Everyone needs some good cheer right now!”

  
“No! No Sansa! I don’t want some big party. Just us, just family and close friends. Please!” Arya was begging her sister.

  
“We’ll talk tomorrow. All of us. Good night Arya,” Sansa began to rise, “Oh, and we’ll be watching your chambers.”

  
Arya sighed and rolled her eyes, knowing she’d lost this fight.

     The next morning the Lords, advisors, commanders and a few assorted others gathered in the room that had been dubbed The War Rooms. Everyone was once again sullen, last nights festivities were long gone from the memories of those gathered. The commanders all stepped forward, one at a time, moving figures on a table topped map, illustrating how many men the Northern forces and their allies had lost. In total, around half of the men had been killed during the battle.

  
Everyone discussed the next steps that would have to be taken. The Dead had been dealt with, know the war would now be against the living. Daenerys was urging the gathered people that they must move on Kings Landing immediately.

  
“The men we have left are exhausted,” Sansa began. “Many of them are wounded. They’ll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate.”Arya noted that her sister sounded every bit the Lady of Winterfell, Arya knew that no matter what was to happen, the North would be safe with Sansa.

  
Daenerys bristled at the suggestion of delaying an attack on Kings Landing. She snapped back at Sansa, Arya and Sansa shared a knowing look with one another.

  
“I must speak to my officers before I can tell you a time frame your Grace.” Sansa said cordially.

  
“I came North, to fight beside you! At great cost to my armies and myself. Now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to postpone.”

  
Sansa and Daenerys traded blows for several minutes, arguing on the merits of marching on Kings Landing immediately, or on waiting.

  
Sansa won the argument with, “You want to throw them into a war they’re not ready to fight?”.

  
“I will allow just one week, then we march on Kings Landing.” Daenerys said in a way that was final.

  
Sansa glanced across to Arya, she inclined her head in response to say it’s the best deal we’ll get.

  
“Fine. One week.” Sansa agreed. “My Lords, please speak to the Commanders.”

  
“Arya, Sansa.. My Queen, Ser Davos, Ser Gendry,” Jon said, “I would like a word.”

  
Arya glanced at Gendry, her blood burning with pride at her brother addressing him as Ser, but she kept her face composed, knowing the direction of this conversation. The room cleared out, save the six of them, Arya moved away from Sansa towards Gendry.

  
“Arya!” Jon sighed.

  
She turned widening her eyes at him. He smiled in response and made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her.

  
“I love you little sister.” He said into her hair before stepping away from her. He turned to Gendry and clapped him on the shoulder.

  
“Please sit, everyone.” Jon declared.

  
The whole room made their way to the seats around the table. Jon and Daenerys sat at one end of the table and Sansa at the other end. Ser Davos sat across from Arya and Gendry. Arya fixed her eyes down on the map before her, absent mindedly she picked up a small wooden ship and began pulling it West of Westeros.

  
“Arya!” Someone called, but her hearing was hazy.

  
“Arya,” Gendry whispered reaching out for the ship.

  
She looked up into his face, a big silly smile was plastered on his face.

  
“What?” She gasped wide-eyed.

  
“We were discussing your upcoming wedding, My Lady.” Ser Davos answered.

  
“I’m no Lady!” Arya said softly to the old man.

  
“I told you not to call her that Davos!” Gendry chuckled back.

  
Arya was happy. She felt genuine happiness within her, she hadn’t really felt this way since before she left Winterfell all those years ago. When she saw Gendry looking at her, it was like nothing else in the world even existed.

  
“Arya!” Sansa snapped.

  
“What?!” Arya protested.

  
“Are you okay? Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought during the battle?” Sansa questioned.

  
“I’m good.” Arya retorted sarcastically.

  
“Her Grace has agreed to allow Gendry to decline his Lordship, for now at least.” Jon informed Arya, everyone else looked like they’d already heard this before.

  
“We thought the wedding could take place before our armies march South.” Daenerys declared.

  
“A good celebration may raise the moral of the troops before another battle.” Ser Davos beamed proudly.

  
Arya peered around the table. Even the attention in this room was killing her. She couldn’t avoid the whole situation, she loved Gendry and she did want to marry him. But the thought of hundreds of eyes on her.. it truely unnerved her. She peered at Gendry, he was looking only at her.

  
“Honestly,” Arya began, “I just want a small ceremony, at the Weirwood tree, just family and close friends.” She thought she sounded like a child as she said these words. It was never anything Arya had even considered before the last week. Arya was always a wilful girl, wild and un-tameable. Everyone had thought Arya would be dragged into a wedding ceremony kicking and screaming, but here she was, sat next to the man she loved planning a wedding.

  
“But a feast must take place after.” Sansa declared.

  
“It is needed.” Queen Daenerys added.

  
Arya lent into Gendry gently.

  
“Am I allowed to sneak out of the feast?” She whispered to him.

  
“They may notice your absence this time, Milady.” He grinned back at her.

  
She smiled lightly back at him, raised her face towards her sister and lightly nodded an approval. Arya wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the light but she swore that she saw Sansa and the Dragon Queen grin at one another.

     Later that evening Arya received a note whilst in her chambers, she wasn’t left alone for long. All day someone would seek her out every hour, a maid, her sister even the Hound at one stage.

  
“Hear yer marryin the Smith?” He chortled from outside her door.

  
Arya humphed in response. That just made him laugh even harder.

  
“Really didn’t think the two of you’d figure it out. Thought you’d both continue to be so blind!”

  
“What did you want?” Arya groaned at him.

  
“Guess yer not as cold as I thought.” He declared.

  
He turned to leave as she gawked at him.

  
“He betta treat you right, or e’ll ave me to see to.” He called over his shoulder as he walked away from her. She felt her lips pulling up into a sly smile.

  
The note was from The Three Eyed Raven. That is actually how it was signed, her brother on occasions was completely transcending himself. The note wanted her to make her way to the Godswood once she had read it. Not one to like being summoned, even by her brothers she milled around for a bit before pulling her cloak on.

  
Arya made her way through the halls of Winterfell, out into the court yard and towards the Godswood. She could sense that the population of Winterfell had decreased in the past week, and yet she could still feel eyes on her wherever she went. She held her head high as she walked, trying to ignore the people pointing at her and talking about her, “I am Arya Stark of Winterfell.” she told herself, “I am No one.” she added.

  
      As she made her way into the clearing of the Godswoods she saw her three siblings gathered around, waiting for her. None of them heard her approach, they had all been facing one another talking intently.

  
“Are you talking about me?” Arya asked standing beyond Jon’s shoulder.

  
“How do you do that?” Jon protested with a jump.

  
“Many years of training.” Arya cocked her head in response.

  
“When you were No One.” Bran added in his cold Three Eyed Raven voice.

  
Sansa and Jon shared a look of confusion.

  
“Why are we here?” Arya questioned Bran.

  
“We need to talk.” he responded.

  
She motioned towards him as if to tell him he had the floor to speak.

  
“Sansa has something to say.” Bran declared.

  
“I- how much do you trust Daenerys?” Sansa asked Jon.

  
“Wholly. Do you not? She brought her forces here to help our fight when she’s spent her whole life working towards her rightful Crown!” he roared in response.

  
“She’s being too rash, she wants everything done now. Our men need to rest!” Sansa protested.

  
“She’s waited all these years, she’s lost men, her closest advisor and a Dragon to our cause!” Jon raged.

  
“And you bent the knee in return. You surrendered the North into her hands.”

  
“I had to.” Jon stressed, “We needed her men, we needed her dragons, if it wasn’t for her we’d all be part of the Army of the Night!”

  
“You forget it was Arya who killed the Night King!” Sansa retorted, her voice full of pride.

  
Jon looked at Arya, he gave her a brief smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  
“I had to kneel Sansa, I know Arya and Bran played the most important roles in defeating the Night King, but we couldn’t have done it without her. I had to bend the knee!”

  
“Of course you did, I respect that.” Arya chirped in.

  
“You respect it?” Sansa looked at her sister disgusted.

  
“We needed her,” Arya shrugged. “You did the right thing. But, I agree with Sansa, how much can we trust her?”

  
“She’s a Targaryen! We don’t know, she could turn into her father any day now.” Sansa added.

  
“Your family name doesn’t determine your own actions. She’s not her father anymore than Bran is his father!” Jon protested.

  
“He was your father too.” Sansa added.

  
Arya watched as Jon and Bran shared a knowing look. Arya glanced at Sansa in confusion. They were hiding something.

  
“Ah, I have to tell you something. It’s actually why we’re here.” Jon said looking down at his feet.

  
“Are you sure?” Bran asked.

  
Jon nodded to his brother sat in his wheeled chair, “Tell them.”

  
“Jon isn’t our brother.” Bran began.

  
Arya opened her mouth to protest, as she always had when someone said that, but a look on Jon’s face made her stay her mouth.

  
“Jon was not father’s son. His mother was Lyanna Stark, and his father Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar never abducted or rapped Lyanna. They were in love, they married in secret. She bore Rhaegar a son she named Aegon Targaryen, but she was dying from the childbirth. Father found her screaming and covered in blood, clutching at the babe. Father swore to protect the child, Lyanna’s last words were ‘Promise me Ned?’. Father told everyone Jon was his bastard to protect him from King Robert.”

  
Arya looked dumbfounded by her brother’s tale. Sansa looked like she was thinking hard on something.

  
“It doesn’t change anything for me, Jon.” Arya said reaching out for his hand.

  
“It changes everything!” Sansa declared.

  
“Daenerys isn’t the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.” Sansa protested. “We could argue that there are two who could claim the throne over her!”

  
“Two?” Jon and Arya asked in unison.

  
“Jon is the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys’ elder brother, he would come before her in the line of succession, no?” Sansa asked.

  
“Technically.” Bran agreed.

  
Arya frowned as the second choice loomed over her.

  
“I don’t want it!” Jon spat. “She deserves it, she’ll be a good Queen. She will always be my Queen! But who is the second claimant?”

  
Sansa smiled slyly towards Arya.

  
“No.” Arya said firmly.

  
“Think about it Arya.” She protested.

  
“No.” Arya almost growled back.

  
Sansa rolled her eyes.

  
“Gendry of course. He’s the legitimised son of King Robert Baratheon, who also claims decent from the Targeryn line from Princess Rhaelle.”

     Arya stumbled away from the Godswood, gone was the swift movement she usually moved with, she began to run when the stumbling passed. She paused as she reached the castle walls, bending over to throw up. She took a few more breaths before making her way into the castle grounds. She looked around the castle court yard, a deep panic setting in. She began gasping turning around in circles.

  
“My Lady?” She heard someone ask.

  
She managed to compose herself a little, she stopped and looked towards the voice, it was Ser Davos.

  
“Are you okay?” He asked.

  
She nodded.

  
“Are you sure?” He reached out to lay a hand on the elbow. “Here, take a drink.” He said handing over a skin of weak ale.

  
“Thank you Ser, I’ll be fine.” She gave him a weak smile, and began to head towards the forge.

  
      Arya stormed into the forge locating Gendry.

  
“We need to talk,” she said scanning the room. “In private.”

“Are you okay? You look pale.” He exclaimed reaching out to touch her face.

  
“Come.” She said turning on her heels and pulling him after her.

  
They found themselves back in the store room, the very one where they had slept together before the Long Night, and where Gendry had proposed to her, Arya guessed this was their place. She sat down on the sacks of grains, her stomach was churning once more. She motioned for Gendry to sit next to her.

  
He clasped her hands between his, and she told him what her siblings had told her.

  
“I don’t want to be a King.” Gendry said bluntly.

  
Arya kissed him deeply.

  
“I only want you Arya.” He sighed as she pulled away.

  
“No featherbed for me.” She began to whisper to him.

  
“I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,” she rose to her feet.

  
“and bind my hair with grass,” she pulled him up to his feet.

  
“But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass.” she smiled at him.

  
He framed her face with both of his hands.

  
“Okay, so no yellow silk or crown? But I promise I’ll always keep you warm and safe, and guard you with my - well I guess my hammer?” He chuckled back.

  
“You remember?” She gasped.

  
“Tom of Sevenstreams.” He replied.

  
Gendry walked Arya back to her chambers.

  
“Gendry,” Arya sighed as they reached the door.

  
“Milady,” He grinned at her.

  
She lightly punched his arm.

  
“Stay with me?”

  
“Your family won’t be pleased..”

  
“I don’t care.” She reached up to kiss him, then pulled her through her chamber door.

  
“Arya.. I do believe that is a featherbed.” Gendry told her as she pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him.

     The next day Arya Stark of Winterfell was to marry Ser Gendry Baratheon. Gendry and Arya knew they would have to be up early, but they did not anticipate Sansa’s eagerness for the day.

  
“Arya Stark!” Sansa gasped.

  
“You could try knocking!” Arya screamed back at her sister.

  
Gendry blushed like a maid and pulled the furs up around himself and Arya.

  
“My Lady, I..” Gendry almost looked in pain. “I.. uh.. I apologise.”

  
“I’m going outside that door and the two of you had best dress.” Sansa declared backing out of the room.

  
As soon as the door shut behind Sansa Arya turned to Gendry and placed a soft kiss upon his lips. He shook his head at her in disbelief, he should be ashamed at being caught abed by a Lady with her sister, but looking into Arya’s face he only felt pure happiness.

  
“Arya, I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” he sighed.

  
Arya screwed her face up in response, “Could we not just stay right here?”

  
“No. I think your sister will have something to say about that. And to be honest, I am scared of her!”

  
Arya humphed in response. The two of them rose from the bed and pulled on their discarded clothes from the previous night.

  
“Goodbye Arya Stark..” Gendry said with a grin as he left the chamber.

  
“Arya! I can not believe you!” Sansa protested as she made her way into the chamber.

  
“Guess you weren’t watching my chambers as close as you thought.” Arya chuckled.

  
“I can not believe you little sister. Come on, to the bath with you!”

  
Arya sighed and began to throw her clothing off, Arya wasn’t abashed by being naked in the presence of her sister or the maids, that kind of thing passed her by long ago during her years in Bravos.

  
Arya sank into the naturally hot waters of Winterfell and began to scrub away any grime that clung to her skin.

  
“What sort of monstrosity are you going to dress me in then?” Arya questioned her sister.

  
Sansa just replied with a sly smile before walking off.

  
Once Arya was clean she rose out of the bath and dried herself off. Sansa made her way back into the chamber at that time, followed by a maid carrying Arya’s wedding outfit.  
Arya was expecting some monstrous white dress, but she was pleasantly surprised by what she saw.

  
“Sansa?” Arya gasped in a small voice.

  
“Well, you never were a dress kind of girl Arya, and I don’t think Gendry would mind. Come, take a closer look.” Sansa responded.

  
Instead of a white dress, her sister had made her a sophisticated ivory tunic with matching pants. Arya reached out to touch the tunic and noticed that her sister had embroidered a stag and a direwolf onto the tunic breast. The cloak was made of ivory silk lined with thick fur, and had a direwolf embroidered on it in a dark grey.

  
“Sansa,” Arya felt tears welling up in her eyes.

  
“So you like it?” Sansa asked.

  
“How did you do all of this so quickly?” was all Arya could say.

  
Sansa laughed in response. “I had all the materials on hand, the assembly didn’t take too long. I’m glad you like it.”

  
Arya let her sister help her dress, then sat down for her to do her hair. Sansa began to brush out Arya’s shoulder length brown hair.

  
“I always dreamed of having this sort of relationship with a sister.” Sansa said, “Not with you, but some other sister! I never thought you would be getting married!”

  
“Me either.” Arya looked down at her feet.

  
Sansa began to twine a crown of small yellow flowers around of Arya’s head.

  
“Sansa,” Arya wined, “I’m going to look ridiculous!”

  
Sansa shushed her and carried on.

  
“You look beautiful Arya.” Sansa said stepping back to survey her sister, with her crown of flowers and ivory tunic and cloak. “Mother and Father would be proud of you today.”Arya snorted in response thinking of how Sansa had caught her and Gendry abed that morning.

  
“Thank you.” Arya responded with a small smile.

     “Arya.. you’re.. you look like a little Lady.” Jon said hesitantly as he met Arya and Sansa outside the castle later that day.

  
Arya frowned at him slightly, and Sansa rolled her eyes at Arya.

  
“I will see you both later.” Sansa declared as she left to take up her place in the Godswood.

  
“Come little sister, best not keep your new husband waiting.” Jon grinned at her, offering his arm out for her.

  
“Please don’t let me fall Jon.” Arya said nervously.

  
“When have you ever fallen over?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  
“I feel like I might now!” She whispered in protest.

  
Jon escorted Arya to the Weirwood tree, she tried not to look too closely at the people gathered. Like Sansa had promised, there were only family and close friends gathered for the ceremony, but as far as Arya was concerned anyone other than her and Gendry was one too many. But they were there, and she would have to just try and block them all out. She tightened her grip on Jon’s arm, and fixed her gaze on Gendry. He was wearing fine brown leathers trimmed in gold, with a black cloak, Sansa had obviously had a hand in this too as he had the Stag and Direwolf embroidered onto his chest also. Gendry’s hair was longer than it had been when he’d arrived at Winterfell, but it was still far off the shaggy length it had been back when they were kids. He’d been shaven, but a thin layer of stubble still remained upon his jaw - good thought Arya, she loved the feeling of his stubble brushing against her thighs. Looking directly at Gendry made the whole world melt away, all she was aware of was her husband to be in front of her and her brothers arm beneath her hand.

  
“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Ser Davos called out.

  
It was odd to think of so many Southerners taking part in a ceremony of the Old Gods, Arya smiled to herself.

  
“Arya of the House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true born and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Jon responded.

  
Gendry stepped forward, he looked proud and mighty, he looked like the Lord he should have been Arya thought.

  
“Ser Gendry of House Baratheon. Who gives her away?”

  
“Jon of House Stark, her brother.” Jon said tearfully, Arya had insisted on all of what he’d said.

  
“Lady Arya, do you take this man as your husband?” Ser Davos asked.

  
“I take this man.” Arya said gazing up into crystal blue eyes.

  
Gendry reached for Arya’s hand before they both kneeled before the Heart Tree, after a pause for prayer, which Arya mostly used to compose herself, they both rose to their feet. Gendry removed Arya’s maiden cloak, passing it to Jon, it was far too beautiful to consider dropping it on the floor. He turned to Ser Davos next and took from him her bride’s cloak, it was the same as her maiden’s cloak but instead of being ivory with a direwolf it was black with a yellow stag and grey direwolf. He smiled down on her as he fastened the cloak around her shoulders, he gave her a light kiss before they turned to the gathered crowd.

  
Gendry and Arya led their small crowd of family and friends into Winterfell’s Great Hall. The path was lined with well wishers all cheering, Arya gripped Gendry’s arm tightly, and he grinned down at her. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.

  
Arya endured the feast, never letting go of Gendry’s hand. Every time the crowds got too much for her he’d sense it and give her hand another squeeze. Sansa truely had outdone herself with this feast, but all Arya wanted to do was slip off with her new husband.

  
      “How much longer do I have to stay?” Arya turned to Sansa after a couple of hours.

  
Sansa raised an eyebrow at her sister.

  
“Have somewhere better to be?” She asked her.

  
Arya snorted in return.

  
There had been singers and musicians singing all night, but about an hour after Arya had asked if she could leave a musician made his way front and centre, stopping just below the Lord’s table where they were seated.

  
The man looked along the table and smiled at Arya and Gendry.

  
“Is that-“ Gendry began.

  
“Tom Sevenstreams.” Arya finished.

  
The man before them began to play the woodharp and sing.

  
“My featherbed is deep and soft,  
and there I’ll lay you down,  
I’ll dress you all in yellow silk,  
and on your head a crown.  
For you shall be my lady love,  
and I shall be your lord.  
I’ll always keep you warm and safe,  
and guard you with my sword.  
And how she smiled and how she laughed,  
the maiden of the tree.  
She spun away and said to him,  
no featherbed for me.  
I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,  
and bind my hair with grass,  
But you can be my forest love,  
and me your forest lass.”

  
Gendry and Arya were both grinning by the end of the performance, the rest of the room had faded away.

  
“I sang you that at Acorn Hall, remember?” Tom asked the two of them.

  
They both glanced at each other and chuckled.

  
“We remember.” They said in unison, thinking back to the night before.

  
“The featherbed does sound appealing right now.” Gendry growled into Arya’s ear later into the night. Arya looked around, many of the guests had now taken their leave, and Arya saw her brothers and sister all deep in conversation with other guests.

  
“Quick.” Arya said under her breath rising and pulling Gendry up after her.

  
They made their way quietly out of the Hall, careful for her siblings not to spot them, once they had made their way around several corners, Gendry pulled them to a stop. He lent down to kiss her deeply and slowly. She groaned in response.

  
“Come on!” she demanded yanking him along towards their chamber.

  
Once inside she pushed him up against the chamber door, and reached herself up on her tiptoes, she pulled his head down towards hers. He began running his hands down her arms, removing her cloak. She began to remove his clothing in response, but never allowed their lips to part. Eventually they both had managed to remove one another clothing, they paused their kissing. Gendry began to remove the flowers from Arya’s hair.

  
“Not quiet grass is it?” Gendry grinned at her, “But I guess your sister wasn’t to know!”

  
Arya ran her eyes up and down her husbands body, the sight wasn’t a new one, but it still stirred her. She could see his manhood bulging as he took her in also, she bit down on her lip and grinned at him.

  
Arya reached out and pushed Gendry back onto the bed as she chuckled.

  
She took a deep breath and made her way over to him. She stood over him for a moment, allowing him to peer up at her. Arya smiled and positioned her hips over her husbands. Slowly she began to kiss him and ran her hands down his shoulders and on to his chest, she could feel his manhood now fully erect beginning to brush up against her, but she made no move towards it.

  
“Arya,” Gendry begged.

  
She just smiled in reply. He rolled his eyes and flipped her over onto her back.

  
Gendry began to kiss her. First her lips, then her jaw, down to her collarbone. He brushed her breasts lightly with his lips, then ever so gently caught her left nipple between his teeth.

  
“Gendry.” She moaned running her hands through his hair, and down to his shoulders.

  
His lips continued down her body, he kissed her scarred stomach, then each hip, before reaching her thighs. She could feel his stubble brushing against her thighs as he began to work on her. She balled the sheets up in her hands as she felt her body begs to burn.

  
“Gods Gendry, Gods.” She groaned.

  
Once she had reached her peak, Gendry slowly made his way back up her body, back to her lips. He kissed her once before thrusting inside of her. He slowly and gently began thrusting into her, never once allowing his eyes to leave hers. Her hips rocked back and forth, picking the pace up as she closed her eyes and buried her hands into his hair. They both murmured each others names softly, Arya wrapped her legs around his waist tilting herself back so he could thrust into her deeper. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as they both reached their climax. Arya felt Gendry’s seed inside her, she sighed happily at the sensation. They didn’t move at first but she felt him go soft inside her, so she elbowed him lightly in the ribs and he rolled off her. They both led on their sides facing one another. Both were exhausted and covered in sweat. Gendry reached out to smooth her hair flat, and she simply laid a hand upon his cheek.

  
“I love you, wife.” Gendry grinned at her.

  
“I love you too, husband.” Arya blushed back at him.

  
Gendry pulled a fur blanket around them and held her tight until he fell asleep. Arya was still awake after her husband had fallen asleep, she just kept watching him, tightly wrapped in his arms, she finally felt safe. She finally felt at home. Gendry was hers and she was his. This was her pack now.

     Arya and Gendry were allowed two days of love. They were mostly left alone to eat in their chambers and generally left to their devices. But on the third morning a note arrived at first light.

‘Gendry and Arya,  
Dress and come to the War Rooms as soon as possible.

Jon’

“Ugh.” Arya groaned reading the note to Gendry. “Could we not just grab two horses and ride off to Kings Landing so I can kill Cersei?”

  
“I have full faith in you ending the bitch, Arya.” Gendry was trying to answer his wife diplomatically. “But I think it may take more than just the two of us to sneak into Kings Landing.”  
Arya rolled her eyes, but realised that Gendry probably had a point. The two of them dressed and made their way to the War Rooms. Everyone else was already gathered when they entered.

  
“Ser Gendry, Lady Arya, how wonderful to see you both.” Daenerys said to them.

  
“I’m not a Lady.” Arya groaned under her breath, before the two of them bowed to her.

  
Everyone gathered around the map of the Severn Kingdoms laid out on the table before them.

  
“We leave at first light.” Daenerys said defiantly. “I allowed you a week to rest your men and for your wedding. Tomorrow we march for Kings Landing.”

  
“More time would be helpful, but we did agree that.” Sansa retorted. “I shall send word to all my commanders to ensure they are ready.”

  
Arya watched closely as Sansa walked over to a tall, lean man, dressed in a soldiers uniform. The man had been stood to the back of the room quietly observing the meeting. Once Sansa had finished speaking the man bowed deeply to her and left the room.

  
“Jon will ride down the Kings Road with the bulk of the forces. I will fly my Dragons to Dragonstone, my advisors and anyone else who is unsuited for the Kings Road will be permitted to sail on my ship with a squadron of Unsullied. We will meet 50 Leagues from the City, before marching onto Kings Landing.”

  
“I think we should arrange a meeting with my sister when we arrive. Allow her to see that we still have a large army and two dragons. Let her know that there is no way she could win.” Tyrion pipped in.

  
“She won’t listen to words.” Arya said cooly.

  
“I agree,” Daenerys responded with a sad smile. “Violence is the only thing your sister will listen to Lord Tyrion.”

  
Arya noted how Tyrion glanced at his brother.

Ser Jamie shook his head in reply, “I agree with the Dragon Queen, brother. Cersei won’t surrender. She knows Daenerys will murder her either way, she will force us to fight. She will make it as difficult as possible. I believe she will invite the surrounding populations into Kings Landing and close the gates. She will try and force Daenerys to have to slaughter millions of innocents to be able to reach her.”

  
“That will not do. I am not here to be the Queen of Rubble, Dust and Dead Men.” Daenerys responded strongly.

  
“I just have to kill Cersei.” Arya said confidently.

  
The whole room, bar Gendry and the Hound, turned to face Arya with shock on their faces.

  
“How are you going to kill the False Queen?” Greyworm asked, looking down at the small girl.

  
Arya inclined her head, she had that glint in her eye and smirked at the room.

  
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Arya said simply.

  
Most of the room had no inclination of the skills Arya had learned during her time in Bravos. But those who knew about her skills as a Faceless Man laughed.

  
“I just need to get to Cersei. The rest I can do myself.” She stated.

  
“I’ll get yer in girl.” Sandor Clegane boomed from behind her.

  
“How do you propose doing that, Ser?” Sansa asked.

  
“I told you not to bloody call me that!” The Hound snapped back at her.

  
“I get how you two were friends.” Gendry elbowed Arya in the ribs.

  
The Hound had heard what Gendry said, he clapped a hand down heavily on his shoulder pushing him away from Arya.

  
“You trust me girl?” Sandor said kneeling before Arya.

  
Arya narrowed her eyes at the scarred giant before her.

  
“Do ya trust me?!” He barked again, yanking her arm gently.

  
She gave a small nod in response.

  
“Good,” he said placing a hand on the back of her head, just like her father used to. “I’ll get you into the Red Keep.”

  
Gendry put a hand on Arya’s shoulder protectively once the Hound had risen, she nodded her head lightly to her husband to let me know she was fine.

  
“Guess I’m takin’ you in too, lover boy?” The Hound asked Gendry.

  
“No!” Arya barked at the same time as Gentry replied “Of course.”

  
Arya turned to her husband, she placed a hand on his elbow.

  
“No,” she said softly, “She wanted to kill you, there’s no way I’m letting you near her.”

  
“Arya, she wanted you dead too.” Sansa replied.

  
“Aye,” the Hound said, “You too, Little Bird.”

  
“Cersei wants us all dead.” Jon boomed.

  
“And we all want her dead.” Daenerys responded.

  
“The three of us will sneak into the city, if she’s bringing in refugees from the surrounding area, we’ll melt in with them. I know all the entrances to the Red Keep, I’ll get you in.” The Hound declared.

  
“Why are you so intent on getting my sister into the city?” Sansa questioned the man boldly.

  
“The wolf-bitch will kill the Queen, I will kill the Mountain. And, he..” The Hound motioned to Gendry, “He’ll.. hold her cloak!”

  
“There’s just one thing.” Bran said coldly.

  
The room snapped around to face Bran, sat in his wheeled chair.

  
“Cersei is going to be faced with the ghosts of her past. This will either play into her hands or it’ll get you both killed.” He was looking straight through Arya and Gendry.

  
“What do you mean?” Tyrion asked.

  
“Cersei will be forced to look upon the face of her dead husband and the woman he loved dearly.” Varys answered.

  
“What do you mean?” Sansa asked.

  
“Gendry looks just as King Robert looked at that age.” Ser Davos declared.

  
“But..” Sansa started.

  
“And Arya looks just like our Aunt Lyanna, who Robert started his rebellion for.” Bran informed the room.

  
“Hm.” Varys chuckled. “I think it could play into our hands! Cersei hated even the ghost of Lyanna. King Robert was in love with her to his end. Imagine her horror when the ghosts of Robert and Lyanna come before her, to kill her.”

     The armies moved from Winterfell the next morning. The march South was a long one, but many of the men had ensured them that it was an easier march than the one North. The snows were not as bad as they’d been even a few weeks prior to that day, and the roads were devoid of any people not in their party. The army gathered on a field, 20 Leagues from Kings Landing. A mass camp was set up, and the army waited on Daenerys.

  
Not long after the tent city had been formed, Arya and Gendry found themselves being summoned by a squire. The couple followed the small boy to a tent much larger than the rest. Gathering in this tent was the so called War Council. Daenerys and those on the boat were already here, they waited on a few more arrivals.

  
Jon walked over to Arya, “How are you planning on doing this?” he asked gruffly.

  
“I was planning something different, but I guess if the sight of Gendry and I will scare Cersei, maybe we’ll just play on that.”

  
“Be careful little sister.” Jon said wrapping her in his arms.

  
“I’m not all that little anymore, Jon. I can handle myself.” She inclined her head at him.

  
Jon sighed and laughed, he looked to Gendry towering over the two of them.

  
“Aye, you’re a woman grown now.”

  
Arya blushed at that. She loved Gendry, and thoroughly enjoyed being alone with him, but she still wasn’t exactly comfortable about her brother making jokes about her love life.

  
“But you’ll always be my little sister.” he added softly.

  
“You make sure you protect her, brother.” Jon said to Gendry.

  
Arya almost thought he sounded like he was tearing up. Gendry looked from Jon to Arya and chortled, “I don’t think she’ll let me even try!”

  
The Council decided that the armies would gather before the walls of Kings Landing in the morning, the two dragons would be on display. Arya, Gendry and The Hound would sneak into the city before this, the three of them dressed in rough spun cloaks to make them blend into the crowds a bit more. Arya didn’t think their disguise would help too much, but they had their plan.

  
Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tulley, sister of Robb, Sansa, Bran and Rickon, cousin of Jon Snow, wife of Ser Gendry Baratheon was at last heading back to Kings Landing to cross Queen Cersei of House Lannister off of her list.


End file.
